TrustBuilding Exercises
by Lys ap Adin
Summary: If this is what Gokudera wants, Yamamoto is willing to oblige him. For the time being, anyway. Yamamoto x Gokudera, smut.


**Title:** Trust-Building Exercises**  
Characters/Pairings: **Yamamoto/Gokudera**  
Summary:** If this is what Gokudera wants, Yamamoto is willing to oblige him. For the time being, anyway.**  
Notes:** Adult. For khrfest, prompt: Gokudera/Yamamoto – nails, "Don't you dare hold back." Smut, swearing, not precisely _happy_. 1479 words.

**

* * *

**

**Trust-Building Exercises**

When he finally got that Gokudera Hayato had issues like a library, it made Yamamoto Takeshi's life a heck of a lot easier--and a heck of a lot harder, all at the same time.

Gokudera was just special like that.

He was, Takeshi decided, after giving it a lot of thought, like a cat. One that had probably been a housecat once upon a time, but had been treated badly somehow and was living like an alley cat now, distrustful of all humans and ready to claw the face off of just about anyone who tried to pet it, even though part of it still want that petting. That fit with what he'd been able to glean out of the things Gokudera had let slip about himself, and what he'd been able to put together from the things Shamal and Bianchi-san had said about him. It fit the way Gokudera was around everyone, too, prickly and prone to explosions both literal and metaphorical, completely unwilling to trust anyone except for Tsuna. But Tsuna was everyone's special exception, so he didn't quite count, except for the way that Gokudera's behavior showed that underneath the yelling and dynamite, part of him still wanted... something. To belong, to be part of things. To be wanted.

Definitely a housecat turned alley cat, though Takeshi was more than smart enough to know better than to share that little bit of insight with anyone else, especially Gokudera himself.

The problem with alley cats, or any creature that had been hurt like Takeshi was pretty sure that Gokudera had been hurt, was that getting their trust was tricky, sometimes impossible. Tsuna had done it with Gokudera, pretty much just by being Tsuna, as Takeshi understood it. Takeshi himself had at least got Gokudera to stop being an arrogant prick in a fight by dint of yelling at him and then letting Gamma-san kick some of the crap out of him, so now at least Gokudera was grudgingly willing to work with other people when it came to fighting.

And it was that--the yelling, the anger--that worked, as much as it irked Takeshi. Gokudera Hayato didn't have any truck with patience, or with being gently teased, or with the forms that most people used to ease their day-to-day interactions with each other. Takeshi wondered, sometimes, what it was like to live inside a world like that, where every smile was something to distrust, and everything a body did was an attempt to prove how very little he needed anyone else. Takeshi couldn't imagine it, really, even when he tried, but it sure seemed like it had to be pretty grim and cold in a world like that.

Sometimes it made him wonder how long he and Gokudera were going to last, when even after everything they'd gone through together hadn't been enough to get Gokudera to trust him, at least a little bit. But that wasn't positive thinking, which Takeshi was a big fan of, so he tried not to think that way. Besides, there was no point in borrowing trouble; either the future would take care of itself, or not, and in the meantime, he'd give Gokudera his best shot.

He did wish, sometimes, that it didn't take arguing to get Gokudera to take him seriously, though.

Even if arguing did usually end up with them like this.

"C'mon," Gokudera said against his ear, impatient and annoyed. "C'mon, stop dicking around already."

Takeshi didn't bother with answering that; it wasn't really directed at him, anyway. Gokudera was mouthy in bed, hissing out orders and cursing fairly impartially as they moved against each other. Instead, he concentrated on getting their belts undone and their flies open while he mouthed the side of Gokudera's throat, smelling his skin and the scent of cigarettes and black powder that always clung to it, even when Gokudera was fresh from the shower.

Gokudera growled at him, fingers digging into Takeshi's shoulders as he muttered things in a mixture of Italian and Japanese. Once Takeshi has managed to get him to curse in what he was pretty sure had been German, which had taken a combination of three fingers inside Gokudera and his mouth on Gokudera's cock to achieve. One of these days he was going to try that again, just to see how many languages Gokudera was fluent enough to swear in.

But not today.

"Why do you wear such _stupid_ belts?" he asked, when he had finally gotten the second of Gokudera's buckles undone.

"Like you know anything about fashion," Gokudera retorted, and then went off in a torrent of Italian when Takeshi got his fly open and his hand inside Hayato's underwear. His fingers flexed against Takeshi's shoulders, hard enough that Takeshi could feel his nails, even through his t-shirt. "C'mon, c'mon, you _bastard_..."

That was worth closing his mouth on the tendon in Gokudera's throat and sucking, Takeshi decided, and did. Gokudera hadn't made the connection between the names he called Takeshi and the number of the marks Takeshi left on him, yet, but he was smart. He'd get it eventually, and it would be an epic fight when he did. He'd like that, Takeshi thought. It'd give them an excuse to stay in bed for at least a day or so, and when that finally happened, Takeshi was pretty sure he'd be able to get to Gokudera properly, after they'd worn off the energy from arguing.

And then, maybe they'd be able to have sex without arguing first. He hoped, anyway.

Gokudera swore again when Takeshi finally got their hips lined up right and his fingers wrapped around both their cocks, stroking them together. Takeshi didn't swear, but he did groan with the way that made the heat pool low in his belly. He rocked against Gokudera, hand moving over them, slow and firm. That was good enough for him, but Gokudera thumped his shoulder. "Faster," he said, throaty, "c'mon, don't hold back, for fuck's sake."

And that was what it took, with Gokudera. He couldn't stand anything that smacked of holding back, of concealing anything, of anything less than the whole unvarnished truth. Never mind that it was hard to live like that; Gokudera didn't seem to care how much it could hurt him to demand such pure truths, as long as he could get them.

And since that was what he wanted, Takeshi was willing to oblige him. For the time being, at least. He tightened his fingers around Hayato, moving them faster and harder, and groaned as the heat in his belly coiled tighter.

Gokudera groaned, too, hips driving against Takeshi's fist as the words tumbled out of his mouth, a steady stream of Italian that Takeshi really only half-understood yet. Then he went taut, voice falling silent as he shuddered, the only time he ever went quiet during sex, and his cock throbbed in Takeshi's fist as he came.

Takeshi would have liked to have watched him, but that tended to freak Gokudera out. Instead he tucked his face against Gokudera's shoulder, breathing in the smell of him as he stroked himself off, fingers moving fast and sticky over his cock until the heat washed him down, too, and shook him hard. He groaned against Gokudera's shoulder as it did, and leaned against him when it finally released him.

Gokudera tolerated that, briefly, probably because he was still catching his own breath. Then the hands that were closed on Takeshi's shoulder relaxed their grip and slid down to flatten themselves against Takeshi's chest, pushing at him.

Takeshi let them, stepping back and away, not looking at Gokudera as they attended to the matter of cleaning themselves up and doing up their pants again. Funny how embarrassed Gokudera could get, after, even though he didn't care much what they got up to _during_.

Well, it wasn't like he'd ever expected Gokudera to be easy. Most things worth doing weren't. "Anyway," he said, picking up the dropped thread of the conversation--okay, argument--they'd been having before things had gotten sidetracked. "I'm pretty sure that that's really impossible."

"Of course it's possible!" Gokudera retorted. "It's a matter of simple physics! Even an idiot like you could do it, if you set the math up properly!"

"Right," Takeshi said, injecting as much doubt into the drawl of it as he could manage.

The effect worked as calculated; Gokudera went off, spouting insults about Takeshi's intelligence and the principles of physics, hands waving as his voice went up and up. Takeshi let him, and was careful not to smile.

He was quite sure that Gokudera was right, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Gokudera trusted arguments and anger the way he didn't trust other things, and if that was what it took to get his attention, well. Takeshi could handle that.

**end**

Comments are always lovely!


End file.
